Verse 1: peter the discipleI walk in hell, bucking and fighting, scratching and bitingThrowing bows, showing gold's, and smoking dro'sDrinking yak in the back, presidentialHand in hand with the devil, my team imperialWe don't hang with that busta they call miracleThe first disciple, 30 shots from the rifleGrab his soul like a reaperA. K. A. Better known as lil' peterLight 'em up with the powderBest believe I'm a riderThe pastor said sic him and whoever else with 'emAnd watch me and my boys go and flip him, we ready(pastor troy)I think somebody's bout to die (4x then to background of hook)Hook: 4xYou say you want me, but you betta brang yo armyDez georgia rebels ain't gone let nobody harm meVerse 2: blackoutKilla, disabled, stable, mentally challenged the name 'emBut yet I manage over God given talentsEnter near it, cause ravage and repercussions, and damagesPimpin' at them, iceberg slim, seeking titanicCreeping steady slowBobin' and weavin' we broke a do'Complication rules the nation so I roll while I smokeThis one goes out to my folkThis one they caught in they smokeBungey jumping, hang gliding, and sliding of ski slopesWent from selling busta's dope, over used to be cokeI can't cope, cut throat, rhymes over dopeI go fo' brokeVerse 3: pinheadSmoking on that reefer, with the street sweepersSuckers I got wiped up can't run from the grand reaperPeep a, miracle game so lame that you can't showYou tried to steal a track from the pastor and got caughtI brought my freaking folksMy folks that keep it realWe drinking on that brandi and we handy with the steelBetter guard yo grill, hard to kill, like steven segalCause when I see him fall, i'ma shatter his brains against the wall(pastor troy)I think somebody's bout to die 4x then to background of hookHook: 4xYou say you want me, but you betta brang yo armyDez georgia rebels ain't gone let nobody harm meVerse 4: pastor troyOkay they got me last and I'm madAnd I'm ready to fightOne hundred eighty pounds strong, but watch how I biteThey takin flight, cause this buster ackin' like my amigoHit 'em seventeen times with that chrome desert eagleThese my people, in georgia, ignore ya, I can'tGet dumped off in miami riding on candy paintNow would you believe I got a body in my trunk?I'm crunk out the window, hell yeah!, I shot the punkThe first to dump, the first one that punk scatterI'm high I'm drunk, put I'm still labeled that pastorSo any bastard, that got plans to harm meYou best of be ready cause I got a army(pastor troy)I think somebody's bout to die 4x then to background of hookHook till endYou say you want me, but you betta brang yo armyDez georgia rebels ain't gone let nobody harm me
Please consider supporting this site by
Clicking Here and Bookmarking whenever you search and shop Amazon.
It costs you nothing but it supports us and gives us credit and we appreciate it greatly.